#chainsaw knee au

[vanillabeenflower]

In order to further my descent into hell I made a CM AU version of Carrie

She fit Power most of all

[vlada-slavik]

Quick fanart of that one chainsaw × sparklecare au ( @vanillabeenflower ) that I love ( + Itty bitty headcanons on her marks)

Edit: fixed eyes

[bratphilia]

── ★ ˙ strawberry charm ̟ !!

note ✧.*‎  hello hello hello welcome to scream meets fnaf. randomly got this idea after rewatching scream, like, why don't i combine one both franchises in the only way i know how? william afton as ghostface coming into your house and fucking the shit out of you!! and here we are. i spent a lot more time on this than i usually do writing fics so i seriously hope ppl enjoy it. i'm also on break starting today so i'll be pumping out more content from now on going into the new year!

pairing ✧.*‎‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎‎ college au and scream au, reader is college aged, william is her robotics professor, ghostface!william afton, reader is girly, vibrators, multiple orgasms, perversion, mentions of stalking, descriptions of gore, choking, consensual non consent, break-in, approximately one lick to the pussy, rough sex, dumbification, glove kink, slapping, slight daddy kink, cockwarming

taglist ✧.*‎‎ @dilfity @kissingrhi @iikyutee @ghoulsgraveyard @cemeteryry @gh0stsp1d3r

synopsis ✧.*‎ a man calls you up wondering what your favorite scary movie is.

you hold back a deep sigh at the low-quality horror movie being showed on the big screen in front of you. no, it's not the most important thing in the world, to see something "cinematically excellent" every time you go to the theater, but shit, wouldn't that be nice? anyways, that's not what you're here for. you're here for a date with this guy in your robotics class, specifically. 

he's handsy, but so are you. one arm is slung around your shoulder, you're cuddled against his chest, knees drawn upwards, and his other hand coming around to rub circles on your thigh. yes, it's your first date together, after weeks of study "dates." yes, you were cuddling, very heavy emphasis on pda. what about it? it made up for this movie being fucking terrible, so why not. 

you have to laugh. nico, your date, had promised chills and shivers up your spine and hoped for your head pushed into his shoulder at the scary parts of the movie. rotten luck for him. you want to laugh at that. and you accidentally snicker, causing him to look towards you. "what?"

"oh, nothing," you say, nodding back towards the movie. 

he says nothing, thank god. 

finally, there's a good part of the movie. the main character, a ditzy blonde with big tits is tied to a tree while the film's slasher rips her boyfriend's head from his body with a chainsaw. your muscles clench, not in fear, but in delight. you've always been a sucker for gore. and fuck, it gets something else clenching too. you seriously wonder if nico can feel you throbbing when he rests his hand under your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. he leans in for a kiss. no tongue, just lips to lips. it's nice. you notice he put on chapstick and you can taste the buttery popcorn on his mouth. 

however, you're interrupted by the creaking of a chair behind you. the sound of someone getting up and leaving. you didn't pull away in time to catch their face, but the noise frankly startled you than any other part of the movie. 

the film ended shortly after that. no, the person who left never did end up returning to their seat behind you, but that had long since left your mind anyways. nico drove you home in his silver convertible, the top down creating a nice breeze through your hair. the car ride was silent but content. date successful, in your opinion, shitty movie aside. 

"well, goodnight," he says when your door is barely cracked open and you're halfway inside. you silently leaned up on your tippy toes and pecking his lips once more. you ignore the crackle of twigs in the foliage surrounding your house, blaming it on the wind. 

the door shut behinds you. you live in a campus house, but your roommates just so happen to be out of the house for the weekend. this has meant nothing but trouble for you — meaning you snuck your friend lacey's vibrator out of its drawer and had yourself some fun. over and over and over. pastel pink with a pretty bow on the hot glued on the end for decoration (the two of you might have done that together). but don't worry about how you know where her vibrator is, that's none of your business! 

while you're washing off the facial cleanser from your face in the shower as conditioner sits patiently in your hair, you think about nico. specifically whether or not you're actually interested in him. sure, he's a nice guy, romantic. bad taste in movies but clearly cares about what you like since he picked out a horror film to take you on a date to. and yet, that nagging thing in the back of your head, the one that told you not to commit to a relationship for fear of being stuck in one, had you snap back to the reality of relationships. you'll never be free to just date who you want, whenever you want. it made you frown. 

you get out of the shower eventually, still undecided about the future of your dating life, and you decide to put the topic to rest and relax with a classic: nightmare on elm street. or maybe something else? suspiria,  the thing, or evil dead? you browse your collection, and stop at freddy vs. jason. speaking of shitty horror movies and sticking to the freddy theme, you think with a smirk. 

you slip the cd into the player. super retro, i know right? 

you're popcorn'd out, to say the least, so you skip on making a bowl. your movie is interrupted shortly by the buzzing of your phone. the caller id just lists a phone number in your area. usually, you wouldn't pick these up, but you do it anyways. stupidly. 

"hello?" you call out into your phone. 

"hello." comes a man's deep voice.

you scratch your head, careful not to chip your manicure. "who is this?"

"who is this?" he mimics you, emphasis on this.

you scoff, already annoyed. probably a prank call. "i asked you first."

"look," he mediates, probably sensing your forming annoyance, "all i have is a question to ask."

"alright..." you say. nothing wrong with that. "shoot."

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

you pretend to contemplate. "hereditary," you say finally. of course it's your favorite. it's had your heart since you first saw it in theaters. anyone who knows you knows not to bring it up if they don't want to hear you go on a tangent about it. "it's the right amount of atmosphere with the right amount of gore." 

"isn't that the one where the little girl gets decapitated after slamming into a telephone from sticking her head out of a car window?" the man on the phone drawls, testing you.

"yes!" you practically exclaim. you hope you found another fan. not many other people shared your enthusiasm for the movie as you did.

he hums. "that's an interesting choice. i don't hear it enough. a little depressing, though."

"you mean you call other girls asking them what their favorite horror movie is? that's a new level of game i've never seen before," you tease, abandoning the movie to get up mindlessly and head to the bathroom to put your hair up.

"not just any girl," he says with a chuckle.

"oh?" you say, "so i'm special?"

"you could say that."

you smile, staring back at your reflection. you get it now. "you know, you could've just come inside earlier, nico. no need to put on the act."

"i'm not nico," he corrects you sternly. 

you scoff and roll your eyes, putting your device down and switching it to speaker phone so you can multitask. "right," you say, unconvinced.

you sort through your collection of hair clips, picking out the right one — "the one with the strawberry charm, huh? that one's my favorite. 's sweet like you."

you nearly drop the accessory. how the fuck? a shiver shoots up through your spine. your head snaps towards the direction of the bathroom window. searching desperately for an answer, anyone that could've just been watching. but no one's there, of course!

"that's not funny, nico," you snap. you're pretty sure you've worn this hair clip to a study date over at his apartment, right? and he might've even complimented you on it. yeah, you try to convince yourself, he's seen it before.

but that doesn't explain how he knew —

"i told you already," the man on the phone's voice is agitated, "i'm not nico."

"then who the fuck are you?!" you ask in a shrill voice, ready to hang up on this motherfucker. you steadily twist your hair upwards and secure the claw around it, letting your remaining hair fall in a ponytail.

"i'll prove it to you," he tells you as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "check the backyard."

you shockingly decide not to hang up for your sake. you would rather keep a close eye on the situation rather than just let something happen to you. you creep towards the sliding glass doors, gulp, then switch on the light, only to be met with monstrosity. 

nico's on his knees; you can hear him whimpering from inside, scrambling for his amputated arm that lies in between him and the sliding door. you open your mouth but you can't scream; the only thing you can feel is a shudder that shakes you to your very core. you feel almost weak in the knees, desperate to keep yourself standing on your two feet. there's blood, so much blood. all the backyard porch, your roommates will be so mad and concerned about what happened? how can you even begin to explain this? 

you try to do the only sane thing you can think of: hang up and call the police. the thought of this being one big prank pulled on you crossed your mind, but you were too scared not to act. a beat passes after you pressed that little red button on your phone, and the door bursts open. this time you scream. 

in a dark blur, you're pressed roughly against a mirror that frames the wall behind the dining table. a gloved hand wraps around your throat. "you stupid bitch, hanging up on me."

you meet the mask of your captor: the damn mask from that slasher movie stab. you were never particularly fond of the franchise. "lame movie reference," you manage to choke out, and you instantly eat your words. he slaps you across the face and loosens his grip at the same time, watching you fall to your side on the hard ground. 

you can barely gather your thoughts — your head is fucking swimming — before he's dragging you by your ankle with a strong grip in the direction of your bedroom. you hate how you slide so easily across the smooth floor. you try your best to break free, to run, wriggling your leg violently to shake him away to no avail. when he's dragged you successfully inside the bedroom he closes it behind you, bends down and manhandles onto lacey's bed. 

tears spill down your cheeks. this is it. you're going to die. but he doesn't take out a knife, or any weapon, actually, to fatally harm you with. instead, he's rummaging through the drawers in front of the bed. and then it dawns on you and you sit up. that's the drawer where lacey's —

"ah, found it," the man says triumphantly, turning back towards you, pastel pink vibrator in hand, toying with the ribbon. "what a cute little thing. do you know how many times i've watched you get off to this little device? what a fucking sight you make."

your eyes narrow. "who are you?"

he chuckles, then uses a hand to remove his mask, revealing the face of your robotics professor. him? how is it possible you've managed to capture his attention? when throughout the entire course he's done nothing but ignore you, treating you like you didn't exist. always ignoring your questions. shit, he's the reason why you started going to nico in the first place for help in his class: because nico was like his golden-star-student. 

"i don't get it," you say, lip trembling as tears well in your eyes. "why me? what did i do—"

"to captivate me?" he finishes your sentence, turning on the vibrator. you gulp like it's your impending doom. professor raglan kneels onto the bed and you wish you could back up but you only hit the headboard behind you. "well, for starters: you were always so eager for my attention. and it hurt me not to give it to you. couldn't blow my cover, sweetheart."

you still didn't understand, but you didn't have anymore time to contemplate or question him. he was spreading your legs, splitting open a space under your short, pink skirt for him to gain access to the area between your legs. you fumble with the sheets, holding them in a death grip. you definitely ruined your manicure. once your skirt bunches up around your hips, it reveals your panty-less mound. of course. you didn't think to wear anything after your shower because it wasn't like you were going out. 

your professor whistles lowly, pupils dilating in desire. it's perverted, the way he puts down the vibe, and grabs your hips upwards so he can get a closer look at your pussy. you throb subconsciously, making him look back up at you with a quirked brow. he leans forward to blow air on you, eyes still steady to gage your reaction. you whimper and wriggle in his grasp, face heating up in embarrassment. "you just have the cutest little cunt," he comments when he pulls away, then sticks his tongue out to lick a stripe up your pussy. "mmm, even sweeter, too. sweeter than the little strawberry in your hair."

"ohh," you coo. you hate to admit how good it feels, but here you were, arching your back in his touch and moaning.

"yeah?" he asks, taking his mouth off of you for a moment. "my baby like it when i eat her dripping pussy?"

you sniffle, not answering. you can't find it within you to be able to. "no? maybe i'll stop and move on then." you want to cry, fuck. a feeling of relief settles back in when he takes the vibrator back in his hand. the low hum grabs your attention — not like you could zone out at a time like this anyways.

when the device meets your needly clit you groan, flex your fingers at the sheets. "oh, fuck," you whisper. his eyes never leave your face, and every time you regrettably look at him, he's breathing heavily, open mouthed, like he just can't get enough of you. so you avoid looking at him, going through stages of keeping your eyes closed or looking up at the ceiling, praying for sweet release to whatever cruel deity is looking upon you getting fucked by this old man.

the vibrations against your clit are a little too good to be true. you can't help but feel like there's a price, one you'll specifically have to pay with his dick inside you. you wonder if it'll be lame like the other guys you've had, but honestly? you could get off to the thought of this situation, and you'll definitely remember this for future masterbation-sake. you're a freak like that.

raglan presses down on your stomach, iliciting a hiss from you through your teeth. "want you to come all over my arms," he tells you, "coat my gloves, you'll make me so happy."

fuck, then you get an idea. the gloves inside of you. you throb once more at the thought. "i-inside," you murmur, hoping he'd get the message.

"huh? what's that, baby?" he asks mockingly, but you know damn well he heard you. please don't make me said it, you think.

you reach down to touch his free hand, guiding it towards your entrance. "want my fingers inside you, hmm? baby needs something inside her to feel satisfied?"

"mhm," you hum with a nod of your head. he slowly slips a gloved finger inside you, the fabric deliciously creating friction that makes you grind on his hand. he looks up at you with a dirty smile, then reaches forward to kiss you as he pumps his fingers in and out of you ever so slowly. it's perfect. the stimulation of the vibrator combined with the feeling of his clothed hand is enough to make you burst.

and you do gracefully. so much that he pecks your cheek, tells you how much of a good girl you are for him, as lewd 'ah's tumble from your lips uncontrollably. you buck against his hand until he pulls is out of you, whining at his removal.

"i know, sweetheart, i know," he sympathizes after you, "daddy's cock's gonna be inside you soon, though. then you'll have something else to play with."

you're already exhausted from your first orgasm, somewhat unsure of how you're going to take the next, but you can hardly think about that now. you're drunk off the atmosphere between you two, nico's amputation is far forgotten. you can't even remember what you were doing before this. your hair is tussled in a way that has your hair clip drooping down the side of your shoulder loosely, but you don't have any energy to fix it. all you can think about is daddy's — wait, when did he become daddy? — cock inside you, and that's all that matters.

raglan begins to grind his bare cock against your entrance, having discarded his black slacks moments ago. he rubs the tip against you, purposefully bumping against your click, drawing out a symphony of noises — babbles along the lines of "please, just put it in, i can't take it anymore" — as your face contorts in a sob and tears fall down your cheeks again.

"my girl is such a crybaby," he chuckles, then slowly guides your hips to slide down on his cock. he fills you up by the inch, making you feel every ridge and vein. the stinging sensation of not being adjusted to his length washes over you in a surprisingly pleasurable wave. "so fucking tight," he gasps. he lets out his respective groans once he's fully sheathed inside of you.

then he starts moving; then things start to get good. you're not fully adjusted to his length, but the way you're leaking around him makes for perfect lube. what's a little pleasure without pain? it could be worse, you could be on the floor writhing in pain with multiple stab wounds, but instead you were being stabbed by his dick inside of you, so you weren't in a position to complain.

raglan leans down so his body is on top of yours, keeps himself steady by planting one hand to the side of your head as he aggressively snaps his hips into yours. you realize, in this moment, just how desperate he's probably been for this. not like you could do much thinking, but the way he was pistoning inside you said enough about how he felt. and god you felt good, clenching and unclenching around him, making the prettiest noises he's ever heard.

one particularly hard thrust has your head swimming, like it did when he slapped you. you want him to slap you again, so you initiate it in the only way you know how; reaching forward to land a weak hit across his face. he stops moving for a second, shocked. then with a swift whack across the face, he's back to thrusting inside of you, even harder this time around. "wanted me to hit you so bad, you could've just asked you dumb little slut," he growls into your ear.

"''m sorry," you have the audacity to giggle, "couldn't tell you."

"yeah? am i fucking you that stupid?" he asks, "'course, i don't expect you to able to answer that."

he flips you over suddenly so you land on your stomach, putting himself back in, fucking you with reckless abandon. the way his cock is hitting your g-spot right now has you plummeting over the edge. you wriggle your hips backwards to help him get off too, which he does right inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

he doesn't pull out. he's waited too damn long for this to do so. he's gonna enjoy a nice, long time inside of you, whether you like it or not. he collapses on his side, pulling you close to him so that he's spooning you. the most important thing to him in that moment, is your half-awake form rising and falling with each breath against him with his cock buried deep inside of you, strawberry charmed hair clip discarded somewhere by the pillows.

[loveandmurders]

Hi I like to look at your page and I was kinda wondering if you do the slashers reacting to their victims hurting their s/o like they are are looking for them and they see their s/o on one knee in the ground and blood while the victim is standing there (Poly! Ghostface Stu & Billy, Thomas, Michael daddy Myers, Vincent, ChromeSkull)

Here’s apple juice and a bagel w/ cream cheese 🧃🥯

Hello there, thank you for the request and food :) <3 It was really nice to try to write for several slashers for one request tbh! I never wrote for Ghostface or Chromeskull before so I hope it is okay. Actually, it made me start a poly!Ghostface AU series and I’ll post it soon I think. Oh and I added Bo to your request because I feel he would have been sad to be excluded! Hope you’ll enjoy!! <3

Gender neutral reader and no physical description.

Warnings: Blood, mention of killing, violence, reader is hurt.

Stu Macher & Billy Loomis

You weren’t yourself Ghostface, but the victim had high suspicion against you because no matter where you were, Ghostface never seemed to attack you.

You had no idea that Ghostface was Stu and Billy, but you had to admit you had noticed that somehow you seemed off limits.

(Once Ghostface even waved at you from far away before leaving to kill someone else, but you never talked about it to anyone)

So the victim attacked you, and you were bleeding on the ground.

They were ready to hurt you even more, in order to make you talk but one of the Ghostfaces would show up just in time after having heard noises of a fight.

It would be Billy behind the mask, and he would be really not happy about this.

He wouldn’t even bother to talk to the victim, or toy with them (even though it was his favourite hobby).

He would just attack them and protect you right away, too possessive to let anyone hurt you without consequences.

Stu would arrive soon after, wondering what Billy was doing, because he was suddenly not following the plan. 

And then he would see you, on the ground.

The sweet boy would worry instantly and he would grab you and help you back on your feet so you could both leave.

Despite the pain, you would notice how Stu didn’t seem to care about Ghostface, or didn’t seem to have any will to help the victim.

He would settle you upstairs, in a bed and he would look after you and fuss over you.

Soon after, Ghostface would find you, and remove his mask, revealing Billy, who would join you on the bed to make sure you were fine. He would also calm down Stu.

You would be shocked to understand who your boyfriends were.

Billy would sweet talk to you and kiss you to make you forget about it, and Stu would do anything to cheer you up and make you admit you still loved them.

And of course you did.

After that, they would keep you away from their crime scenes at all cost so it wouldn’t seem too obvious that Ghostface was in love with you.

Thomas Hewitt 

You were helping to prepare dinner in the kitchen, when a victim attacked you from behind.

They had stabbed you, forcing you to fall on your knees in front of them, your hands on your wound, as you were heavily bleeding on the ground.

Thomas would arrive just in time before the victim could kill you.

And no need to say the man would go feral and insane, unable to stand the sight of you like that.

He would instantly turn on his chainsaw and jump on the victim with all his strength and speed, like a cannonball aiming to violently kill.

The victim would have no chance of survival at all, because Thomas believed he was born to serve his family and protect the people he loved.

And he loved you more than anything else in his whole existence. And this person dared hurt you, which meant no mercy.

His bloodlust rage would only quieten down when he would see you falling on the ground, passing out from the pain and the blood loss, softly whispering his name for him to help you.

It would only then he would stop cutting the already dead body in pieces to check you up, turning off his chainsaw and letting it fall on the ground without any care.

Afterward, once the rage would be gone, he would be so panicked.

He would scoop you up and place you on the couch before looking for his Mama so she could patch you up or tell him what to do.

The man would also beat himself up for having let that happen to you and then he would act like your guard dog, making sure no one could hurt you again by keeping you by his side or asking you to lock yourself in your shared bedroom.

He would be paranoid and even more overprotective after that.

He would have nightmares about losing you and he would bring you closer to his chest in the night, making sure you were all safe and sound. No that you minded the attention at all.

Michael Myers (RZ)

Michael hadn’t thought one of the victims could escape him and find you watching TV in the living room.

And no need to say, he had never thought you would get hurt, no matter how many times you told him you didn’t like when he was bringing victims inside the house to play.

When he would see you, laying on the ground, hurt and unconscious, it would definitely break the remains of sanity he had inside of him.

His fist would tighten around his knife and before the victim could run away, Michael would grab them and pin them on the wall before stabbing them over and over again in the stomach.

If Thomas was full of rage, Michael was also the kind of slasher to not be able to stop himself. But unlike Thomas, it would be a very cold rage.

He wouldn’t express any emotions behind the mask, or he wouldn’t say anything or even groan in anger.

He would simply stab the victim until he would feel better about the situation, and then he would plunge his knife deep enough into the body for it to stay  pinned on the wall.

His attention would then get to you, and he wouldn’t know what to do at first.

He would be afraid to hurt you, but at the same time he couldn’t stand to see you on the ground, so he would eventually carry you to your shared bedroom, undress you and take care of you.

Because he had lived a great part of his life in an asylum, he knew how to take care of wounds and it worked in your favour.

He would never bring any more victims back home, and he would actually never let anyone in.

If someone was getting too close to his property, he would get out and kill them right away.

Killing to keep you safe was his new love language and you could only appreciate it because you had never been so safe in your whole life.

Vincent Sinclair

He had asked you to stay in the basement, where he thought you would be safe.

But of course, one of the victims had found the secret gateway leading the House of Wax to his place.

And when the tourist saw you there, minding your own business with a book in one hand, they had guessed you weren’t another victim.

They wanted to hurt you, like the masked twin had hurt their own people so they didn’t hesitate to jump on you and to beat you.

When Vincent would arrive, panicked after he had realised one victim was missing, you would be on your knees, trying to get up to fight back.

But your head would be throbbing and you wouldn’t be sure you wouldn’t fall if you went back on your feet.

Vincent would know better than panicking or going insane.

Like Michael, cold and silent rage would rise inside of him like a wave ready to destroy everything.

But unlike Michael, rage wasn’t equaling chaos to him.

Vincent was an artist who spent his days creating and who needed the tourists for his creations.

So he didn’t jump on the victim to cut him into pieces, he would really silently move behind them before they could strike again, and then slice their throat open.

He would take a lot of pleasure to kill them and he would make sure his movements were slow and precise so the tourist could have the time to feel the pain and to realise they were going to die before ineed dying.

Once done, he would let the body loudly fall and then his rage would be replaced right away by worry and tenderness for you.

He would be your special doctor and take care of you until you were fully healed. He would even make sure Bo left you alone for that time and he would ask Jonesy to stay with you when he couldn’t.

At night, he would cuddle you with extra love to make you forget he failed you.

Bo Sinclair

One of the victims had been able to get inside the house and had been smart enough to stay silent, so you didn’t notice them at first.

When you would, it would be too late already, and you got hit on the head.

You fell on the ground instantly, only half conscious anymore and unable to move.

Bo would have noticed that one of the tourists was heading to his house, but he was already busy with another one, so he simply hoped Vincent would protect you, like he always told his twin he needed to, when he couldn’t do it himself.

Unfortunately Vincent was in the House of Wax, also dealing with tourists.

Bo would finally run to the house, and would find you laying on the ground, the soon-to-be-dead tourist ready to beat you again.

Bo wouldn’t even need to think, he would act on pure instinct to protect you.

Even if he could be sometimes a little bit harsh with you, like he was with everybody including himself, he would do anything to keep you safe and happy.

You were part of the family and it meant no one was allowed to touch you.

If he had his gun on him, he would do an absolutely perfect headshot. If he didn’t have his gun, he would jump on the tourists and beat them with his bare hands until their head would be smashed and his own knuckles bleeding and hurt.

Once the tourist would be dead, his whole attention would be on you. He would place you on the couch and look after you before finishing off the killing.

When he would be back home, with Vincent, you could hear him yelling at his twin for having let anything happen to you.

And while checking on you, he would also be pissed at you for not having been more careful.

But you knew the man had just been very worried to lose you.

And at night, he would hug you even closer than usual.

ChromeSkull

Jesse was always proud to believe he was in control, especially when it was about killing or about you.

You were his, and he needed to make sure you were fine, hence he had settled cameras inside your shared house so he could keep an eye on you when he was away.

It was how he saw a man getting inside his place and attacking you; you were an easy target to get after Jesse; he should have seen that coming.

No matter what he would be doing, he would let go of it right away, even if it was a killing. (If that was a killing, he would throw the victim in his car trunk to deal with later).

In no time he would be back home, and ready to slaughter whoever dared to touch you.

His knives would be already ready to strike as he went right where you and your aggressor were, with the same violent cold rage that Michael could have.

For once, he wouldn’t play, he wouldn’t torture, he wouldn’t even try to understand who this person was, he would just kill as roughly and painfully as possible, because someone who hurt you just couldn’t continue to live in the same world as you.

Once the killing would be done, he would then carry you somewhere comfortable and take care of you obsessively.

Until you would be fully healed, he wouldn’t let you leave your bed and he would threaten to tie you up there if it meant you stopped fighting his will.

His paranoia would have no limit after that event, and he probably would insist for the two of you to move out somewhere else, more secured.

There was also no way you would ever leave the house after this and you would live like his personal little doll, all safe and sound in a golden prison.

No need to say that no one else ever touched you again, as Jesse would kill whoever even pronounced your name his way.

Taglist: 

@feathery-ass​

[ghouljams]

ah, i realize ive been liking a lot of your posts at an alarming rate IM VERY SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO IYGRWGFHERU i took a break from tumblr and have just spent the day catching up on everything i missed (my bad:( ) BUT WOW SCRUMPTIOUS AS ALWAYS THANK YIU FOR THE FOOD GODBLESS HOLY FUCK. YOUR KNIGHT N PRINCESS AU GOT ME SOBBING ITS SO WELL WRITTEN I WANT TO SCREAM (1fae1 and viking!soap still has me bouncing your writing is SO insnae oh my god AND THE DEMON DARLINGS? i was having SUCH a blast bingeing) BUT. still standing on the hill of goose being my favourite god im so in love with her WITCH IS A CLOSE SECOND please please just one chance... 🧎 🧎 🧎 (i get disembowelled) im like, so serious about this. your goose x reader fics are my favourite fucking thing in the world. goose (and on occasion witch, ...i think im just very gay) is the only one that can make me squeal and giggle and run laps around my room you dont understand the visceral squealing that was happening. the cod men? yea im hyperfixated but like ehhh🙄 mid. just some guys. some dudes. got me straight faced no expression i read for mindless entertainment. (/hj) LMDEFOIGRJGRTUGTOGFEWFER BUT GOOSE?? IM BARKING IM MEOWING ANYTHING PLEASE JSUT ONE CHANCE IM CRAWLING ON MY KNEES ARRURRYRGHRRRR 👹 👹 👹 👹  (so sorry for being abnormal in your ask box im done now 😔)

Be abnormal in my inbox I'm loving it. I'll write some Goose x reader just for you my love(and for me)

The only thing worse than Halloween in the city is Halloween in the country. There seems to be nothing these people enjoy more than scaring the hell out of the city folk unlucky enough to wander into their "haunted trail" or "corn maze of doom." Popular attractions that boasted what looked like startlingly real entrails, and over excited ranch hands revving chainsaws at anyone that walked too close. It's the best, you would spend every weekend out here if you could. Especially if it means getting a peak at the real attraction.

You've seen more than one person posting on social media about one specific corn maze's "killer". The mask is nothing special, one of those blank white party masks, but the bursts of laughter and physicality of the woman under it? You were a little smitten.

Smitten enough to be leisurely as you wander the maze. You're properly spooked by the glowing eyes in the corn, the growing sense of unease as you come across blood splatters and viscera, even the other scare actors jumping out to make you run for the next turn. Still, none of them are who you're looking for. You're not quite paying attention to the maze, you don't think you're lost, but you're starting to worry you'll get out before you ever meet your favorite scare.

You shouldn't have been.

You turn away from your fifth dead end and come face to face with her. Everything about her is curated to inspire danger, her clothing ripped and splattered with blood, the grimy mask leaving just enough room for her eyes to shine through it, down to the butcher's knife clutched in her hand. Deep crimson liquid drips off the startlingly realistic blade and onto her boots. Her posture makes you feel like you're staring down a wild animal, her movements unnatural as she takes a step towards you.

Despite all of that your heart skips a beat for a reason so far from fear you're actually a little worried about your mental state. You're frozen at the sight of her, unsure how to drag out this moment. You want to say something. Fuck what do you say to a scare actor you're more than a little in love with?

"You're supposed to run sugar," She tells you, tipping her head to one side. You giggle nervously at the affection, watching her flip the knife in her hand. She hums, hunching her shoulders to tip her head further, looking at you sideways. "It's no fun if you don't run, you want this to be fun don't you?" You nod, you think she wants you to say yes and you desperately want to do what she wants. "Then go on baby," She presses, straightening to her full height, "run."

She stands to the side as you sprint past her, you feel the wick of metal against your leg. When you look down your pant leg has a fresh cut right at your thigh. That's a real fucking knife. Christ, that's a real knife. Why does that make you so excited?

You glance behind you and she's gone. Your disappointment is short lived, you're forced to stop short by her cleaver cutting through the tall stalks of corn on your left. Her eyes wild with excitement as you start to wonder if this is maybe... not a haunted corn maze. She flips her knife and swings at you. You duck with a sharp yelp and take off running again. You don't bother checking behind you again, you take turns quick and haphazardly. You hear the 'shick' of her knife as she cuts the air behind you and you know she's on your tail.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath heaving as you run. Despite the adrenaline you can't help responding to her wild laughter with some of your own. You're having fun. Really terrifying fun, but fun none the less.

You turn into a dead end and stop short, just as you feel fingers grab the back of your neck. Your pursuer tugs you back against her chest, the edge of her knife pressing tantalizingly against your throat.

"Well that was unlucky," She tells you, low and sweet against your ear. The plastic of her mask hardly dampens the feeling of her words. You shiver, careful of her blade as you swallow.

"Fuck you're hot," You blurt out, adrenaline making you significantly less eloquent than you would have liked. You cringe a little. She snorts.

"That right?" Her fingers drift from gripping your neck to your hair, scratching your scalp before grabbing tight at the base. The ache of it is pleasantly sharp, you get the feeling that this isn't part of the scare. "Always fun when y'all come through," She breathes, talking to herself. You press back against her, feel her slot her knee between your legs as you do. You were just trying to put some distance between yourself and the edge of the knife, but this feels like something totally different. "You want me to slice you baby?" She patronizes, barely a whisper against your ear.

"No," You grit, although...

"No," She coos, "You want mean Goose to fuck you, right?"

"I'm not supposed to play with my food," She stands, "so call me once you get your head on. Probably won't be workin' by then."

She nods your head for you, careful of her knife, before pushing you to the ground. You scramble to crawl away from her, turning onto your back when you hear her crouch. She pushes her mask up with a wicked grin, still holding all the intent you'd been running from. This feels more dangerous than her knife. Something about her teeth, the way they're bared for you, sets you on edge. You think it's seeing her face, that makes this feel more real.

You recognize her. Goose. She helped jump your car when it died in town. She'd seemed so nice. She tugs a slip of paper from her back pocket and tosses it towards you.

[starstruckkittensweets]

"Roadside Attraction" | Aki x Reader (Kinktober 2023)

Car Sex - Aki Hayakawa

Fandom: Chainsaw Man Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Reader Words: 2.4k

A/N: This is my first time writing for any CSM character, so I'm not sure how this turned out, but at least I had fun with writing it! I have a soft spot for Aki, man needs a hug and lots of sleep for dealing with those 2 weirdos Denji and Power! (But I love them all.) Also I drew a blank with the title, if I think of a better one I'll change it. I hope you guys enjoy! :)

Warnings: canon au, dry humping, brief breast/nipple play, unprotected sex, pulling out method, mentions of aftercare, slight dirty talk, Reader is unabashedly horny in this one

As much as you’ve grown to love Denji and Power over the last few weeks…you have to admit, they can be such serious cockblocks sometimes. 

Not that you and your boyfriend could ever be considered sex fiends (you both like to keep an air of modesty around, even in the safety of your shared apartment). But nowadays, it’s almost as if you can’t even kiss him without an extra pair of eyes drinking in the scene. 

Doing a load of laundry? Denji’s sitting on top of the dryer, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. Making dinner in the kitchen? Power’s not far behind, peeking over your shoulders, demanding to know what kind of food you’ve chosen to prepare for her. Hell, even your own bedroom isn’t as safe as it once was. One night Aki had barely managed to slip your shirt over your head, lips warm against the base of your throat, when you nearly screamed about something brushing against your leg.

Power’s pet cat Meowy, pressing her cheek against your leg, begging for a quick pat on the head. At that point you had half a mind to pick her up by the scruff and drop her right into Power’s lap—but the last thing you wanted was a vengeful Blood Fiend after you for daring to hurt her precious cat.

Even the fucking cat is getting in your way.

“We need a vacation,” you mumble one morning, perched on the kitchen counter.

Aki shrugs his shoulders and takes a sip of his coffee, not even bothering to chide you for sitting on the counter. You know damn well Denji and Power wouldn’t be able to get away with that.

“We have that mission from Ms. Makima coming up this weekend.”

“That’s…not what I meant…”

He pauses, lips lingering on the rim of his mug. His hair is still frazzled from sleep, hanging over his shoulders. (Not that you want to run your fingers through it or anything. No, of course not.)

“…Then what do you mean?”

You smile, tugging on the hem of his sleepshirt, inching his body closer to yours. “We need a vacation, a real one. Not just a solo mission, either. Just you and me…” You lean in close, lips brushing against the apple of his cheek. Lifting your knees and wrapping your legs around his waist. “…And maybe a nice hotel room, with soft sheets, a bottle of wine, and maybe even—”

“Ooh, sounds good! When are we heading out?”

The two of you pull away from each other at once; your face flushed with heat as Aki clears his throat, turning back to the mess of dishes in the sink. Denji sprawls his upper half along the counter, eyes shifting lazily back and forth between you and your boyfriend.

You don’t know how much more of this you can take.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” you hiss through your teeth. “Forget it.”

He lets out a groan just as Power stumbles into the kitchen, Meowy snuggled up in her arms. You sigh and jump off the counter; out of the corner of your eye, you can see Aki shaking his head at you.

You love the little family the four of you have created…but damn it, not at the cost of a little private time with your own boyfriend.

Thankfully the weekend comes faster than you thought, and as you’re driving through the streets at night, the files from Makima resting in your lap, you’re starting to wonder if Aki had a point when he saw this as a vacation.

The destination’s set, the roads are quiet, and the stars are absolutely gorgeous. And the best part? No Denji and Power to bother you.

For the first time in literal months, you have Aki all to yourself. And you’ll be damned if you let this opportunity slip through your fingers.

You shift in your seat, adjusting the papers and folders in your lap (also possibly parting your thighs a bit—just to get comfortable, you swear). “How much longer till we get there?”

“It’s not far,” he says, sounding a little strained from the long drive. “We’ll be there within the hour.”

Meaning the hotel Makima booked for the two of you. Despite the work and expectations for the two of you during this mission, it’s hard not to get excited at the thought of finally being alone with him. And in just an hour you’ll be in that hotel room, far away from any distractions named Denji and Power. Locked inside four walls with no one there to bother you. Just you, your boyfriend, a comfy king-sized bed…and the whole night ahead of you.

Trouble is, you don’t think you can wait that long.

You clear your throat and shift in your seat again. Aki hasn’t noticed your little game yet, too focused on the empty road ahead. So you stretch out your arms in a yawn, tossing the files into the backseat of his car. Rolling your shoulders, squeezing your thighs together.

When he still doesn’t glance your way, you reach out and rest your hand on his crotch.

You’re lucky he doesn’t swerve off the road at that; immediately his body goes rigid, his knuckles a stark white as he grips the steering wheel. Gritting his teeth as he struggles to keep his eyes on the road.

“…Seriously? You can’t wait a bit longer?”

“I’ve been waiting for weeks now,” you mumble, squeezing your fingers around him. He rolls his eyes, as though he’s not growing hard beneath your palm right now. “Can’t help it, I need you—”

“And I need to focus on driving.” He sucks in a sharp breath at your touch, but he makes no move to swat your hand away. “…Stop it.”

“Or what?” It’s hard not to smirk at the look on his face, the way his eyes glow beneath the faint lights on the side of the road. “You gonna punish me? Tell me what a bad girl I am?”

“I-I’m serious—”

“And so am I.” This time he full-on whines when you squeeze your hand around him. You press your thighs together, already feeling your panties growing damp. “It’s just the two of us, Aki. Me and you, like it was in the beginning. Like hell I’m not gonna try to get in your pants.”

He groans again, shaking his head, jolting when the car hits a slight bump in the road. His fingers flex against the steering wheel, eyes fluttering shut with every roll of your wrist, every touch of your fingers.  

But you win in the end; before you know it he’s slowing the car down to a stop, right on the side of the road. No one’s around for miles, no cars coming up in the distance.

Just you and him, as it always should be.

He’s panting by the time he unbuckles his seatbelt. Sliding his seat back to make room for you, as you wrestle with your own seatbelt in the passenger’s seat. It finally slips off and you crawl into his lap, pressing your chest against his own, lips hot and demanding as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“Such a fucking brat,” he mumbles, already fumbling with the hem of your shirt. You barely manage to pull it over your head before he’s on you again, trailing a line of kisses down the side of your neck. “Really couldn’t wait another fucking hour, huh?”

“Nope,” you reply, popping the p with a smirk.

He opens his mouth but you cut him off with a roll of your hips. The delicious friction of your clothes and the heat of the car sending your eyes rolling back into your skull.

Damn it, you’re like a pair of horny teenagers. Has it really been that long since you last shared a night together? Are you really that desperate to be close to him that you’d risk it all for a quick fuck in his car on the side of the road?

Yes, absolutely. You’ve always been the type to take risks, after all.

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth when you roll your hips again. Too eager to feel him against your body, can’t be bothered to take off any more of your clothes. He reaches up, squeezing your breasts, rolling them in his palms as you kiss your way down his neck. “T-too fast—”

But you can’t stop, and he makes no move to push you off. So you keep thrusting your hips, eagerly chasing your release. He brings your mouth to his again, sliding one hand to cup your ass, dragging your hips along his own.

You reach out behind him, fingers snagging on the little hair tie and pulling it free. His black hair spills over his shoulders, making it easier for you to tangle your fingers in the strands. He doesn’t seem to mind; only pulls you closer, hips stuttering against your own.

Your name tumbles from his lips as a faint pink color washes over his cheeks. “Can’t—shit, ’m gonna—”

You cut him off with a kiss, stilling your hips slightly, shifting yourself just enough to unfasten his belt. The last thing either of you want to do is finish the car ride with messy pants; it’s bad enough you already have to change your panties by the time you’re through here.

He slips his cock out, giving it a few quick strokes, his eyes never leaving yours as you shimmy your way out of your pants. It’s a little hard, given the lack of space in the car to begin with. But finally they’re on the passenger’s seat beside you, panties resting right on top of them. You spread your legs and straddle him, hands curled around his shoulders. Swallowing his moan of your name as you sink yourself onto him, the stretch of his cock sending a shiver down your spine.

“F-fuck,” he hisses against your throat, “missed this, y’know…”

You can’t hold back your smile, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. “I know, I did too.”

At least now you know you’re not the only one left feeling needy after the last couple months.

The two of you stay like that for a bit, getting used to the feel of each other. His hands sinking down to your waist, fingertips pressing into the soft skin of your hips. You swirl his hair in your hand, pulling it back and kissing his forehead. Only when he gives you a nod do you start to move your hips; slow and soft, eyes fluttering when you lean in and capture his lips in a kiss.

It’s been too fucking long since you were able to do this last; you’d almost forgotten how wonderful it feels, having him deep inside you. Hard and heavy, sending blissful shivers along the length of your body. Pressing up against that spongy spot inside you, the same one that makes you squirm and clench around his aching cock. Just the thought of it has you moving your hips faster, matching your earlier pace. But Aki is quick to help you, his hands guiding your hips against his own, moaning into your mouth with every thrust.

The windows are starting to fog up around you, the car jerking with every move you make. It must look so stereotypical from an outsider’s perspective; a couple of horny lovebirds who couldn’t wait till they got to their hotel room. Well, you’re the horny one—but Aki is just as guilty as you are, if his moans are anything to go by.

“That’s it,” he mumbles against your lips, “feel that? Feel how hard you get me? What you fucking do to me?”

Yeah, you do, and you love every fucking second of it.

“M-much better than waiting for the…for the hotel room, right?”

He doesn’t answer, only grasps your hips tighter and forces himself deeper into you. You’re panting hard, bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace, a thin layer of sweat beading at your forehead. Aki leans down to kiss your breasts, taking one of your nipples between his teeth.

You’re close, so fucking close you’re practically babbling at this point. Eyes squeezed shut as he rocks himself deeper into you. Whining out his name, nails biting into his shoulders as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

“Please,” your voice is sweet against his lips, words tasting like honey on his tongue—and suddenly he’s thrusting into your wet heat as hard as he can, as fast as he can, just a little bit more, a little bit, a little bit—

He swallows your scream as you gush around his cock, thighs trembling around his waist. It’s not long before he follows suit, barely managing to pull out before he reaches his own peak. Your fingers find his cock at once, and with a few rapid strokes he’s groaning into your neck, thick white ropes coating your palms.

As much as you want to stay in his lap for a little while longer, you know better than to push your luck. Aki never likes dealing with too much of a mess after sex; besides, you two still have a mission to do, a hotel to get to before they give your room away.

He helps you climb off his lap, as gently as he can, settling you back into the passenger’s seat. He keeps a stash of wipes in the glove compartment, something you never thought you’d be grateful for in the past. He cleans you up and pulls your panties back over your legs, giving you a firm kiss on your lips when he’s done.

“Think you can hold out just a bit, till we get to the room?”

You give him a weak nod, snuggling against the seat cushion with a smile on your face. “I think so.”

And then he smiles, a soft and small one that makes your heart flutter in your chest. He rolls down the windows, letting the cool night air wash out the sticky smell of sex. Once your clothes are straightened and the windows aren’t as steamy, he starts the car again and begins the trek down the road, picking up right where the two of you left off.

But this time he holds your hand in his own, giving it a soft squeeze as declarations of love spill from your lips. 

[paytato435]

Snapper and Stinkpot Character Ref: Casey Junior!

Oh look, the main character appeared! Info dump about Casey under the cut!

Casey Jones Junior - 16, he/him

Birthday: November 23rd (Sagittarius)

Casey is trying his best to adjust to his new life after stopping the Krang invasion, but he has a few wrinkles to iron out before he can sleep soundly at night. Most notably, he hasn’t told his family that he’s also a mutant turtle, and now he’s been blackmailed. Yikes! Wait why would he hide that, that’s so cool?

Some head canons I have about Casey for this au: Knows sign language! Donnie is the only other turtle proficient with it in the family, but maybe it will be useful somehow? Casey also has a bad habit of confusing the younger turtles with their future counterparts, and is often disappointed by the way they act or their lack of experience in dangerous situations.

Despite all his troubles, Casey puts his family before everything else, and would do anything to keep them safe and happy.

Songs that remind me of Casey: Tomorrow Comes Today by Gorillaz (I’m very funny), Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit, and Cover of Me by SUGR?

Casey’s design: Imma be honest, his apocalypse outfit in the movie is trash, I only kept the parts I really liked; his knee pads, hockey stick chainsaw, and face mask. Coming from such a dangerous upbringing, I figured he probably has the scars to show for it, and pretty early in the story it’s established he has a hard time looking at the scars on his legs. So unless it’s otherwise stated, this boy wears leggings under his shorts, lmao. Of course he rocks the man bun occasionally, and even a ponytail in my sidewalk comic. He’s a practical boy. <3

The jersey is a reference to Leo, who also has his own #1 jersey. Gave it longer sleeves to be more hockey/ football shaped over the basketball cut tho. I had an earlier design with him in a tank top and I just don’t vibe with it that much now. His number is 6 because 4 turtles + April + Casey jr. = 6. Finally, we have his red boots. I stole them from Deku in MHA, and they look fucking good on his turtle form, which I will be posting very soon!

And uhh, just in case the totally normal jpeg above isn’t working for you, here’s the picture again. I don’t know why it would be broken but like, idk… I just feel like things haven’t been appearing the way I thought they should lately 🤷‍♀️

P.S. if anyone knows if there are any references for human feet in Rise please let me know or send me some because I totally just threw those piggies out there and had no intention of looking for something so suspiciously specific. 😳

Masterpost Turtle Casey? Angel’s Reference sheet! Sunshine's reference sheet!

[inkyquince]

Being friends with scummy Remy and scummy Wren would have been perfect opposites, especially when the town's true face was slowly revealed. Main thought right now (and definitely not because I'm busy with Shared By Three AU and lost in nasty) is how terrible this duo would have been for any reader, but specifically a male reader.

content warning. Pretty dubcon in general. Virgin male reader who no experience and Wremussy with a lot of experience. Forced bisexuality, verbal feminization, coercion. Cum play, slight scent kink, threesome. Nefarious intentions in general. Kissing practice, nipple play, lots of blowjobs, rimming and fingering. Flagrant Wremussy, cock hungry Remy and Smarmy Wren. previous generation.

Girl crazy (think Denji from Chainsaw Man) reader and that doesn't sit well with Remy or his little sidekick. Girls excite you but also make you nervous, so you never got past maybe holding a hand. You're more or less Remy and Wren's pet, and everyone sees it but you. You're blind to the power dynamics that took a hold of your trio, that Wren might be lower that Remy, but a loyal hand is better than being a glorified puppy. Little do you know that they would happily drag you around on a leash if they could.

Sure, they've experimented with each other, but you're what's missing. Their boy, who they managed to catch glimpses of in the changing rooms, when coming in from the rain and borrowing clothes from them at the estate.

First step is taken by Wren.

The two of you are drinking, bottles stolen from the main house, Remy's trapped in some insufferable upper class soiree and the blond has you to himself. The subject is steered onto kissing. You are so cute, dizzy and clinging to the bottle neck as you pout down at the liquid sloshing inside, matching your runny brain as you got drunker.

"'m gonna get made fun of." You complain, running the rim against your bottom lip, blind to Wren's heated gaze. "When it happens it gonna be so bad, I just know it."

"Practice with a friend, idiot." Wren grinned, bright and without malice. "It's how I got so good."

You blink at him, half betrayed that he already got his first kiss in, half interested.

"Don't have any girls to practice with." You gave a pathetic hiccup that went straight to Wren's cock, wondering if you'd make the same noise when cum drunk and needing another hot load in your ass.

"Who cares. I practiced with Remy." He shrugs, as if it was no big deal. As if it didn't go from stiff lips, to spitting in each other's mouths and wrestling trousers off of each other. It was almost instinct, Remy on his stomach, hips raised and Wren hungrily fingering his virgin hole.

You stare a bit, eyebrows raised before coughing softly.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"And it... Changed nothing between you two?"

It changed many things pup, Wren thought. But you don't need to know that, not until you're humping my thigh like he was when I finally got to suck on that pretty pink tongue.

"Fuck no." He lied.

There was a beat of silence and Wren took another swig of his drink, as if excitement wasn't knotting in his gut. Even if you said no, he could jerk off to the fantasy later.

"Okay." You finally breathed out and Wren immediately leaned down and yanked your chair leg closer, so your knees were touching.

You spilled your drink, the dark liquid soaking your thigh but your friend barely gave the garment a second glance, leaning into your space instead. One slender hand cupped your jaw, thumb dragging over your Adam's Apple. The way his soft brown eyes were trained on your bottom lip made you feel more dizzy than the beer had.

"Open your mouth a bit." Wren murmured, setting his bottle down and not caring enough when it tipped over.

You parted your lips and your friend sighed lowly before dragging his eyes over your face again. He leaned in.

His lips were softer than you expected. Everything that you had been told about kissing girls, meant that you thought of soft lips and curious tongues. It did mean that you somewhat believed that kissing guys would be... Hard mouths and distance.

Wren kisses like a girl, you thought hazily as his gentle lips slowly move against yours, leading the kiss expertly. It was... Nice. So nice. He would tilt your head for you to get a good angle, his hand warm against your skin, as his tongue slowly trailed over your bottom lip. You didn't realize you let out a low sigh as the closed kiss turned open mouthed, his tongue gently pressing against yours. A fuzzy thought trailed over your brain, sluggish and oozing, that you should be the one practicing to take charge, but there was something about Wren being the one to press into you, hungry and tasting with his hand on your thigh... That made everything else fade away. Even as thumbs dug into your hipbones, tugging you off your chair on onto his thigh, pressing you closer, you couldn't break properly from the spell he had put you under.

Even his chuckles that vibrated in his broad chest didn't wake you, his hungry hands dragging over the back of your thighs. It wasn't until you felt his own excitement, something thick and hot and digging into your skin, could you break out out of it. You slowly tried to pull away, the alarm bells in your head not even properly ringing, his hands making you grind your own dick against his thigh promising pleasure if you just stayed in this bubble with him.

The door flung open and Remy walked in, sighing something about stupid dress codes before freezing, eyes fixed to Wren's wandering hand, gripping your ass and his tongue pressed into your mouth. Seeing you friend made the illusion shatter and you quickly pulled away, stumbling upright and stammering something about needing to get home. Neither boy looked away from your cock pressing against the front of your trousers and you fled the cottage.

"... He any good at kissing?" Remy finally asked, his own gaze turned dark and hungry.

"I can train him good. Want a taste?" Wren snickered and let his tongue slip past his lips and Remy shrugged, taking your place on his lap.

Just the thought of your saliva lingering on his secret boyfriend's tongue had him harder than he could believe and unlike you, he encouraged Wren's hungry hands seeking out his bare skin.

You had stayed away in hopes the event would quickly be forgotten.

But as per, you couldn't stay away too long. Puppies trot back to their masters eagerly enough.

This time you hung out with Remy in his room and the conversation turned to sensitivity... Of nipples.

"No way." You said flatly.

"Yes, they are." Remy sighed, rolling his eyes. "Just as sensitive as girl nipples, I promise."

"... I don't think mine are."

"What played with your own tits too much?"

"Shut up." You threw a pillow at him and he caught it easily, snorting. "I just... I don't really touch them. I didn't think guy nipples would be as sensitive."

"Guys are just as tender as girls. In every way, really."

You lay back in Remy's stupidly big bed, mulling over the information. His eyes flicked to the loose shirt you were wearing, arm holes cut pretty large, large enough to tease a sneak peek of the entire reason he started this conversation. He smiled to himself, his plan going perfectly already.

"Next thing that comes out of your mouth is going to be that you're also not as ticklish as a girl."

You perked up, almost indignant. Gotcha.

"I'm not!"

... Yeah, you should have thought this through. Trapped underneath Remy who wanted to prove his point, knees hooked over your shoulders so you couldn't squirm away, weakly trashing as tears rolled down your cheeks. Your stomach hurt, with your friend's quick fingers tickling your sides, chuckling softly himself.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" He mused and you wheezed out a faint fuck off.

Slowly drawing his patterns over your skin led his fingertips to drag over your chest, pausing by your nipples. With a hum, he tugged up your shirt, despite your weak objections that you got it, you were sensitive, until the fabric rested on your collar bone. Still trapped, you take a breath in the sudden break, but froze up when he brushed the pads of his thumb over your nipples.

You wriggled in objection but Remy tightened his legs around you.

"I'm making my point." He murmured, slowly teasing the tender skin. "... You've got such pretty tits. Almost like a girl's.

"S-Shut up!" You stammered out, despite the fact you... You wouldn't know exactly what he meant by that.

"I'm not lying. I know guys who'd suck on these instead. So perky." Remy's voice was low, as he teased your nipples into stiff peaks. "You sure you wanna fumble with some girl's bra? You should just grope your own. Really wasting such a pretty pair of tits by not showing them off."

You felt your cock stir as he whispered to you, not letting up on his cruel ministrations. It was as if he was milking one of his cows, the way he cupped and squeezed your nipples. Remy even leaned forward, hot breath rushing over your skin. You froze up but stopped squirming as his lips were barely inches from touching you. He exhaled again and promptly spat on one of them, rubbing his saliva into you.

"You thought I was gonna suck on them, didn't you?"

"Shut... It." Your voice came out in a whimper, instead of a demand.

"Tell you what. I can get you a date with that girl from your English class you like mooning over..."

You, foolish puppy, perked up at the mention.

"But only," Remy continued, his cock growing hard against your back. "You come with me to the park after it gets dark."

Your stomach sunk like a stone.

"... For what?" You nearly cut yourself off with a sigh as he gave a particularly hard pinch.

"I want to watch you let those gross older guys fondle your nips, of course. Twenty of those guys, and you get your date. Or let ten guys use your tits to get off and you'll be knee deep in pussy, I promise."

"... Get off?"

"Guys can give tit jobs, idiot." Remy sighed, slowly grinding his aching erection against you and you stiffened up. "Let them rut their dicks against your chest, run their cockheads over your nips, cum all over you, and you get your fucking date."

You didn't agree and the girl in your English class barely gave you a glance. Doesn't mean that Wren and Remy's actions didn't escalate real fast.

Wren finally got his fist around your cock, when teasing you that bros get off together all the time. You were bullied into it, his grip on your wrist not ceasing as he pressed it to his own erection, but his... His own slow massage of your crotch was so tantalizing that you whispered out a shaky okay to his whispers. Wren picked the porn and let your laptop play it at full volume despite your increased embarrassment. You couldn't look at him, just stared at the screen as you both massaged each other's cocks, sitting side by side on the couch as the scene progressed.

He chose a surprise threesome fuck. The porn star's husband would come home, and make her affair partner eat her out as he fucked his perky ass, before getting him so cock drunk that he started moaning like a whore for cock, more cock, please, please. Somehow you tensed up more when it happened.

"Want me to finger you like that, pretty boy?" Wren murmured against your ear, his own cock leaking heavily in your hand. "Looks good, doesn't it?"

Your first hand job went to your friend, his grip tight around your erection and his other hand down your trousers, past your balls, circling his middle finger around your virgin rim. Never got to push them in, too distracted by licking up the cum on his palm. You tasted semen for the first time as he tucked your own fingers into your mouth.

Blowjob nearly went to Remy's farmhands, who led you to the barn, teasing glint in her eye. Until the man in question flagged you down, shoved you against the wall, and sunk to his knees as she retreated, worried about being fired. You weakly tried to push him off, but... Even as his tongue just licked up your balls, along your shaft before popping the head in his hungry mouth, it felt too good to deny. It felt as if his lips were fucking you, more than you were fucking him. Gloved hands pressing against your hips, forcing himself deeper on your dick, throat bobbing hungrily with every swallow. You were lost in the reverie, right up until you felt a tight grip on your balls, making you squeak and your eyes shoot open.

Remy glared up at you, tongue still dragging helplessly against your shaft. As if he physically couldn't stop himself.

"Let anyone taste your cock and I'll ruin you." He hissed out, grip on your balls tightening momentarily.

"Remy!" You struggled not to squeak.

"Say it." The farmer refused to let up. "Say it. I'll fuck you up, and I don't just mean your life. I'll ruin your body, make you regret even thinking you belonged anywhere else than under my fucking boot."

"N-No one will t-taste my cock! Please!" You whispered, somewhat delirious and not knowing if it was from his tight grip or from the lack of attention to your cock, having been so warm and snug in Remy's throat a few seconds before.

He conceded and half your cum escaped down his throat, with the other half being purposely being smeared across his face. Remy did suck on your balls as a strange apology and your next load was licked by the same tongue, off your tummy.

You know that you weren't going to loose your virginity to a girl. Not when Wren and Remy refused to back down. Your first blowjob went to the up and coming smuggler. Rim jobs was something you didn't think about often, but your first time experiencing one went to the farmer, who was preparing you for his partner, on the bed he first pinned you down to play with your nipples.

Cum coated your tongue but you weren't allowed to pull off the rapidly hardening cock, not with the fingers cupping the back of your head.

"You've got the mouth of a gloryhole whore." Wren sighed happily.

You could just whine, as Remy's tongue pressed further into you, the hand that wasn't tucking more desperate fingers into his own hole, busy with milking your cock. You knew your virginity will go to him. You already knew he was going to sink down on you and ride you until your balls were empty and aching and sore.

That wasn't what you were worried out.

Because the one virginity you never really wanted to lose, was going to Wren. Wren, your friend you've had since forever, and his throbbing cock, already perked up against your lips.

You sighed, drunk off the thick cum warming your stomach, and fought back a loud whine as Remy's tongue slipped out of your puffy, swollen rim, hungry to taste your cock again.

"Don't worry. You'll be fucked stupid in a bit." He murmured, distracted by dragging his lips over your shaft, tasting you with his tongue.

Lost in the sensation of wet heat against your erection, you didn't even realize you began to press kisses to Wren's own cock, slowly dragging your own tongue against his shaft, tasting the hot, musky skin. You even closed your eyes, savoring it slowly, lazily dragging your lips over him.

As your mouth reached his leaking head, you didn't even need the weight of his hand against your head, you took it into your mouth immediately. Flicking your tongue over the slit, almost mimicking Remy's own actions with your cock. Your legs relaxed and his fingers slid back in easily, aiding by the mixture of lube and saliva that loosened you up. You didn't know when giving head became easier, especially when Wren first huskily whispered that you'd love the taste, that helping him out wasn't really gay. It was rough against the back of your throat but now it was almost... Seamless. As if you were so hungry for it, you refused to give in to your gag reflex.

"Y'know, it stops being straight when you start savoring the taste." Wren snickered above you, running his fingers along your throat as you bobbed on his cock.

You froze up slightly, but the sensations against your cock and swollen hole eased you back to relaxation, though not compliance. You could feel Remy's own tongue slowly drag over your slit, opening your eyes to glance down and see him massaging his cock as he indulged in your own taste. His other hand bobbed underneath him, pressing more fingers into his own hole. Pulling off Wren's cock slowly, the mixture of cum and saliva bridged your bottom lip to the tip of his oozing slit. Flushed, you parted your lips.

"I... I don't..."

"Yeah, yeah baby. You don't like boys. Now focus on my balls, I love how you lick them, puppy"

[justhere4thevibez]

Happy anniversary, congrats on such a prolific achievement 💐

Hellcheer prompt for you if you're feeling it 🎁

A lil drabble/fic let of Eddie x Chrissy inspired by the princess bride or Stardust ✨ it can be roleplay, a reimagined scene/AU, or however you interpret it 💖

Thanks nonny! This turned into a very loose interpretation of the fire swamp scene - set in a haunted house instead 🎃 enjoy!

“I don’t think I’m going to survive this.”

Chrissy clutched Eddie’s arm, her fingers digging into his bicep as he led her through the entrance of the haunted house. He’d insisted that going to a haunted house was a cornerstone of Halloween tradition. Privately, she thought it was a bit weird to pay to be scared, but she’d never say no to spending time with him.

“Nonsense,” he said cheerfully as they entered a dark hallway. “You’re just saying that because you’ve never been to a haunted house before.”

She yelped as a blood-covered clown leaned out of the shadows with a snarl. “Nope, I’m pretty sure I’ll just faint and die right here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Eddie pulled her further into the maze, navigating through the eerie red lighting with ease. “You’ll be just fine.”

Chrissy licked her lips nervously. Maybe he was right. She was scared—terrified, honestly—but there was something giddy and fluttery in her gut, too. It was kind of fun to be scared. Especially when she had Eddie to hold onto. Eddie who was her friend-or-maybe-something-more. She was still trying to figure out exactly how he felt about her, though her heart had long ago decided. And right now her heart was very firm about needing to stay as close to him as physically possible.

He had to practically carry her through a creepy school bus full of ghosts and ghouls that laughed and clawed and shouted in her face. Even when he finally set her down (outside, where there was a little more room to breathe) he kept her close, standing behind her and linking his arms across her shoulders so she was surrounded on all sides by Eddie.

It would be way too easy to get used to this.

But he didn’t seem to mind and even drew her closer as they walked deeper into the haunted house, tucking her into himself so she could barely take a step without him.

“See?” he whispered in her ear, making goosebumps crawl across her skin. “I told you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Maybe.” She breathed deeply to slow her racing heart, though the fear had long ago left her. “Isn’t this the part where somebody jumps out with a chainsaw though?”

He scoffed. “I don’t believe that exists.”

Before she could retort, a man wearing a hockey mask jumped out from behind a tree, revving a huge chainsaw. Eddie screamed in her ear, a high-pitched, undignified sound. Then he picked her up and raced through the trees until they made it to the next part of the maze.

“Fuck,” he said with breathless laughter. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“You mean the screaming wasn’t on purpose?” she asked, unable to resist teasing him a little.

He bent over with his hands on his knees so they were eye to eye. “Oh, now you’re the brave one?”

“Hmm.” She licked her lips, suddenly overwhelmed with the thought of kiss him, kiss him, kiss him. “Maybe.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You want to bet?”

She leaned forward unconsciously, but the next moment a voice said boo right by her ear and she screamed and leaped into Eddie’s arms. He whirled her around and ran through to the next part of the maze.

“Don’t let go,” she whispered, wishing she could stay in his arms forever.

He nuzzled the top of her head, carrying her like she weighed nothing at all. “As you wish.”

[michpat6]

Tag Game - First Lines

AAAAAA I WAS TAGGED BY @novantinuum FOR A TAG GAME!! THANK YOU FRIEND!!

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

1. i need somebody to remember my name (after all that i can do for them is done)

Legend of Zelda, deku mountain baybee, 1-shot, 8k

Like all things, it starts with light.

2. fetch

Legend of Zelda, tp zelink, 1-shot, 1k

He keeps bringing her things.

3. resurrection

Legend of Zelda, botw zelink, 1-shot, 1k

The torch shakes in Zelda’s grasp as they approach the skeleton.

4. that parting need not last forever (it’s dangerous to go alone)

Legend of Zelda, botw zelink, multi-chapter, incomplete

“Link.”

5. chicken

Legend of Zelda, botw zelink, 1-shot, 1.2k

Princess Zelda has fruitcake crumbs on her mouth.

6. kiss and cry

Legend of Zelda, botw zelink, 1-shot, 5.8k

Zelda hates visiting Rito Village.

7. ignorance is bliss

Chainsaw Man, Makima/Quanxi, 1-shot, 3.9k, MASSIVE ANIME/MANGA SPOILERS, NSFW

The only time she drops to her knees is when a pretty woman asks her to.

8. hidden masterpiece

Legend of Zelda, oot zelink, 1-shot, 393 words

Link refuses to show her the last song in his book.

9. a thing that doesn’t change with time

Legend of Zelda, immortal beedle au, multi-chapter, incomplete

The woman in white visits his shop often.

10. birdwatching

Batman, 1-shot, 4.6k

Jim Gordon knows Bruce Wayne is the Batman when the little boy in bright red and green spandex bounces up to him, plants his hands on his hips, and declares, “I’m Robin!”

UMMMMMMM im gonna no-pressure tag @wanderingnightingale, @bellecream, @aheavenscorner, @aurathian, and @ladyhoneydee!

[maiikawriter]

CHAINSAW MAN:

Two Truths and a Lie: “Ooh!” Power said. “Let’s play Two Truths and a Lie!”

“A game?” Denji asked, cocking his head and twisting his lip as his feet drew to a stop.

“No, Power,” Aki said. “Not a good id–”

“No one’s ever asked me to play a game before!” Denji jumped onto Aki’s couch, landing his knees hard in the springs. “How do we play?”

Power tossed her long hair over her shoulder and raised her chin. “The rules are so simple, even you two should be able to comprehend them.”

The day we’ll watch the death of the sun: On an expedition, Denji is amped up to do damage. Aki is revved for revenge. Power has her own motivations in sight. The thing none of them are prepared for brings them together and makes them realize just how important they are to each other. -OR-

A Hayakawa fam Star Trek AU

Of Fiends and Devils: Deep down, Denji always knew how this would end.

A Hayakawa family introspective inspired by Of Mice and Men

Art:

Mermay Power

Yoru & Asa Mitaka in gowns

Kishibe young & old

Makima & Denji

[vanillabeenflower]

Here’s individual edits of Denjknee and Power!Carrie, as well as transparents of both of them

[justphilia]

Unfinished Chainsaw Man No Devils AU that I actually like so I'll share: Additional tags: religious themes (non christian; in case that's the impression you got), canon character death

When Aki was younger, every winter, his parents would pray to the gods for good health for Taiyo. 

His brother was prone to falling ill, especially to the cold. Regularly would they take extra precautions just to keep the boy from succumbing to the average common flu, usually causing the little boy to be bedridden for days. It’s usually more of a hassle than a worry to Aki, though only the opposite can be said for his parents.

Because of Taiyo’s poor health, neglect towards Aki was a common occurrence. On some nights, neither of his parents would kiss him goodnight, and on some days, he would leave for school without saying goodbye. He didn’t really mind it as much—being the older brother meant he had to be more forgiving—but sometimes he wished his parents would just worry less. 

Aki wouldn’t say they were religious, but it wasn’t like praying to the gods was an uncommon thing. Everyone did it, everyone but Aki of course. His parents would tell him to confide to a god in times of loneliness, which Aki thought was ironic since they could’ve easily fixed that issue without the help of a god.

He thought praying to the gods was pointless. He still thinks it’s pointless.

Despite their complete and utter devotion, Aki’s family was still taken away by the gods thanks to a home break-in. The criminals were armed, and Aki imagined that his parents and Taiyo might have died knelt down, on all fours, still praying to the gods, who do not answer their call for help.

Himeno once asked, “Do you visit the temples often?”

To which Aki replied, “I avoid them like the plague.”

She had probably pegged him the religious type, with how he upheld himself—all prim and proper despite the rebellious teen look in his eyes. He wasn’t the type to pray, even when his parents were still alive, but customs taught by his parents still stuck onto him because that was all he had of them left.

He would soon grow out of it thanks to Himeno, who eventually taught him to loosen up, in all the right and wrong ways. Aki thinks his parents would’ve been disappointed to learn that he had picked up smoking, but might’ve found it endearing that he got his ears pierced. 

“Maybe you should give it a shot,” Himeno had said, her mind a little buzzed from the alcohol. It would take a couple more chugs before she was completely drunk, Aki knew from experience. 

“Give what a shot?” he asked, eating his tempura while Himeno continued to drink.

“Praying,” Himeno hummed, pressing her cheek against cool wood. “We’re officers. We’ll always be in danger’s way. Pray for safety if you’re not gonna quit.”

Aki had laughed, more amused than mocking, “Right, because the average purse snatcher will kill us.”

Himeno began knocking on the wood, which seemed more like banging the longer she went on, “Shuddaaaap! Don’t curse us!”

“Curses aren’t real,” Aki told her, brushing her hair aside before it could combine with her drooling spit. And so are gods. 

...

Himeno’s funeral is nothing short of grand, as most funerals are. Aki wouldn’t know though, he’s never been to many funerals, but has visited enough graves to know he never wants to visit another one with a name he fondly recognizes. 

When he’s finally the last one in the room, Denji and Power long gone to leave him some privacy, he pours his heart out with his forehead pressed to the ground. His fingers are interlocked together, his knees pressing so deeply into his chest it digs into his ribs. 

A small part of him blames himself, the same way he blamed himself for his family’s death. Most would probably call it religious guilt—because between sobs he’ll briefly wish that he hadn’t been so egotistically stubborn to not give the gods a chance. 

(It blows over quicker than he might have wanted it to.)

He goes home when the night finally falls, his eyes sore and his throat aching from crying. It’s still too early for him to come home, he thinks, not wanting Denji and Power to see him this way. They probably already know he had been crying, which he can live with, but letting them see him like this isn’t acceptable by his standards.

So he stops by the alley between the apartment complex and the building next to it, pulling out the last cigarette from his jacket pocket. One smoke and he’ll go in. That will calm his nerves enough to face his roommates again.

He knows wiping at his eyes constantly won’t help, but he still does it anyway, more habitual than anything, as he leans against the concrete wall of his apartment building. He counts his puffs and decides to drop his hands to his side, staring up at the night sky. It’s completely dark, thanks to light pollution. 

...

“You’re quitting?” Denji asks, mouthful of bread and jam, and Aki nods from the kitchen after telling Denji so seconds ago. Power, who’s too busy stuffing her face as well, doesn’t react with anything but a scrunched look.

A whole night has passed, which Aki had spent pondering rather than sleeping. He thinks if Denji or Power had walked into his room that night, they might have been freaked out by him staring holes into the ceiling while in deep thought. He eventually did succumb to the exhaustion, but by then his alarm was already going to ring in an hour, so he didn’t get much sleep in the end.

Himeno’s sister had spoken to him during the funeral, handing him letters Himeno wrote to her family during her time as a police officer, and he quickly learnt just how much Himeno wanted him to quit through her own handwriting. 

She was always pretty obvious about it. A lot of their outings weren’t complete without at least one quitting pitch, but he mostly refuted them due to his stubborn goal of wanting to eradicate the underground gun problem that the city was facing. 

Time and time again, she told him just how unrealistic that goal is, how it would be safer if they just became some kind of freelancers instead. Sure, it would be harder to investigate the case without file access, but it would mean not having large targets painted on their backs while investigating. He sort of wished he had listened to her sooner.

[seiyasabi]

Hunters v Gatherers 2

(This is a second part to my ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ AU, aka Yandere Ushijima x Girly Fem Reader x Yandere Tendou story! :)) I hope y’all enjoy this.

TW: !Noncon/dubcon!, Tendou is a meanie :((, manhandling!, Ushijima has a horse cock!, their mom just lets Ushi have his way w you!, virg Ushi!, Ushi is kinda stinky, Tendou cops a feel, ur forced to bathe w Waka, detailed bath w Waka, violence (not towards reader), death (not reader), cannibalism!!, etc..

Please proceed with caution!)

Wakatoshi drops you onto the wooden floor, your knees hitting the ground at full force, causing a whimper to escape your throat. Their mom stares down at you, taking in your mud caked form.

“Boys, why’s the girl so filthy?” The men stand there, stock still, saying nothing. She raises an unamused eyebrow, ‘tsk-ing’ in annoyance, “Y’all know that pretty girls don’t like bein’ dirty, right?”

Satori tries to explain your dirty state, “Ma, she tried to run away! The dumb harlot ran through the rice patty-” He’s cut off by a harsh slap, silencing him in a moment’s notice.

“Harlot? Do ya think that all women are whores, huh? Is your Ma a harlot to you, boy?” She glares at him fiercely, reaching down to smooth mud caked hair out of your face.

“No ma’am, I’m sorry for speakin’ outta turn,” Kiyoko hums in response, not bothering to look at the red haired male.

“Wakatoshi,” The large man stands up straighter than before, showing the stern woman that he’s listening, “Take her upstairs- you both need some deep cleanin’.”

The green haired man grabs you by the arm, and brings you to your feet. Although his hold isn’t necessarily harsh, the firmness of it makes your arm ache. He walks so fast that all of the rooms pass by you in a blur, so when you finally stop in front of the upstairs bathroom, you are in a daze.

“C’mon, let’s clean ya up,” His gruff voice snaps you out of whatever trance you’re in, and you both step inside the surprisingly large bathroom. The shower has a tub connected to it, which is covered by a clean, yellow, plastic curtain. There’s a double vanity on the left wall, both sinks look well taken care of. There’s a wall that separates the shower and the toilet, covering it from the view where you stand by the bathroom door. There’s a linen closet by the double vanity, which Ushijima opens, pulling out a clean towel, and setting it on the sink. He then pushes the shower curtain aside, showing a two-in-one shampoo and an off brand body wash.

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from two country boys.

The disdain on your face is enough to catch Ushijima’s attention, causing him to look at you questioningly. Clearing your throat, you fiddle with the bottom of your skort, “Uhm, do you happen to have any conditioner? My hair can’t go without moisture.”

The muscular man looks at you as if you’ve just grown six heads, “Conditioner? Ain’t that for horses?” His question makes you want to scream. But luckily for you, Satori waltzes into the bathroom, your bloodstained, pink luggage in hand.

“Yer lucky Ma likes you,” He grumbles, putting up your suitcase on the sink next to your clean towel, “Anyways, let's open this sucker up, I wanna see what kinda panties you like to wear.”

Your face feels hot with mortification. What the hell is this guy talking about?! Before you can stop him, he’s unzipping your suitcase, exposing the contents to both of the men in the room. Dry blood covers Satori’s hands, so when he reaches out to touch your clothes, your entire body is completely rigid. He rifles through the bag, putting your makeup bag off to the side, along with your full sized shampoo, conditioner, face wash, body wash, and lotion. Your perfume and deodorant is also disregarded. But, when the creep started to dig underneath your cute clothes, quickly getting closer and closer to your panties and bras, you decide to step in.

“Satori, please don’t look at my underwear, it’s so embarrassing,” His wolfish grin makes you want to drown yourself in the toilet, but you try to stay strong.

“Why? Do ya have some slutty panties, pretty girl? Trynna hide ‘em from lil ‘ol me?” Just then, he grabs a pair of your drawers, yanking them out from underneath a pair of ripped jeans, “Oh, would ya look at that?” They’re a pastel pink lace, which matches the colour of your ruined shirt and pink heels that are tucked into your luggage, “Why don’t ya show me what colour you’re wearin’ right now?”

“What? No!” He’s on you within seconds, yanking down your skort, and leaving your pastel purple panties on full display to the two men. The redhead sucks in strangled breath, before staring up into your eyes with a perverted grin. Your skort is still halfway up your thighs, so you try to pull it back up, only to be stopped by your groper.

“Awe, how’d ya know my favourite colour is purple?” He wraps his arms around your upper thighs, hands settling just below your ass, allowing them to grip the fat now available to his grasp. You try to push him away, hands pressed against his chest, which is surprisingly muscular.

“Get off! Please don’t touch me like that!” You glance back at the silent green haired man, face expressing your panic, only to see him staring at you in awe, “Wakatoshi, please make him stop!” It takes a moment, but once he realises that you’re asking for help, he steps in.

“Satori,” The red head glances up at the giant, a look of annoyance present on his features, “That ain’t how you treat a lady.” Satori scoffs.

“Don’t give me that, Waka. I saw ya starin’ at her-”

“But I ain’t harassin’ her,” The brothers glare at each other for a heated moment, before the redhead finally releases you from his hold. Once free, you pull the skort back up, blocking your panties from their view.

“Fine, be that way, Waka. It ain’t my fault you ain’t man enough to take what you want,” He brushes shoulders with the green haired man as he makes his dramatic exit. A hefty sigh leaves the bulky man, as he turns his attention back onto you.

You shift uncomfortably under his strong gaze, “Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it,” He nods in acknowledgment, which leads you onto your next point, “Well, uh, I guess I’ll start to shower now. Would it be okay if I did it alone?” You didn’t want to offend him, so you tried to ask as nicely as humanly possible.

“Naw, Mama said we both needa get cleaned up,” He closes the door, before he starts to shuck off his button-up shirt. You yelp covering your eyes, before turning away from the stripping man.

“Wait, stop!” You no longer hear the sound of clothing shifting, letting you know that he’d stopped stripping for the time being, “We-we can’t shower together! Only couples do that.”

“Mama said yer gonna be our bride,” He continues to undress, the sound of his zipper alerts you that he’s almost finished stripping. You continue to cover your eyes, refusing to strip in front of the strange man who killed your friends.

Whilst you’re deep in thought, you don’t hear the murderer approach you. His large hands grasp the waistline of your skort, and yank the entire garment off of you, leaving you once again in your panties. This causes you to uncover your face, grasping at his grabby hands. This doesn’t stop him. He then grasps your blouse, practically tearing it off of you, leaving you in only your bra and panties.

“Stop it!” Wakatoshi doesn’t stop, in fact, he only speeds up. He pulls your bra off of your chest, sliding it off like a t-shirt. Your arms immediately wrap around your tits, trying in vain to block them from his gaze. You try to back away from him, but it only succeeds in backing you into the double sinks, “Wait! I’ll take off my panties, okay? Just start the shower, please.”

The green haired man looks at you suspiciously, but nods in understanding. He watches as you grab your soap, his back to the wall as he starts the water. He is not allowing you to run from this shower.

You hand him your soap, and as he sets it down (still staring at you, all the while), you sheepishly pull down your panties, leaving you completely naked. You then kick off your shoes and socks, exposing dry mud on your calves. Up until this point, you hadn’t looked anywhere but the large man’s face, yet, when you kicked off your undergarment, you finally noticed his nakedness. His large cock rests heavily against the inside of his thighs, and his muscles seem to writhe under his skin, making your face hot, as you quickly look away. What you didn’t realise, was that the large man was staring at your body with such hunger, that he was practically drooling. Wakatoshi has seen a lot of naked bodies, but yours had to be the most beautiful. He couldn’t help but want to run his hands all over your pretty skin.

Once your soap is in the shower, he grabs you by the hand, and pushes you into the warm stream of water. He goes in behind you, closing the curtain, which casts a darkness over the two of you. You try to move closer to the wall in front of you, not wanting to be in his way, only for him to grab you by the shoulders, and keep you in front of the water stream. The large man grabs your shampoo, pouring a bit too much in his hand, before setting down the bottle, and lathering it up. He messages the soap onto your scalp, effectively cleaning any mud or sweat from your hair. Wakatoshi tries to skip the conditioner, not seeing the need in it, but you practically force it into his hands. He doesn’t know how much to put on, leading him to put it not only on your ends, but also on the top of your head.

Throughout this entire time, you’ve kept your back towards him, not wanting him to see your naked body. So, once he is done smacking on your conditioner, you wash your face yourself, completely removing the makeup you had on beforehand. You go to wash your body, but the large man stops you, taking the bottle from your hands. He dumps the soap into his hand, before turning your front towards him. He sets the bottle down, and begins to clean you. He first washes your top half, hands moving with purpose. Large hands cup your breasts, rubbing your nipples with his thumbs. You try to push away his hands, but he holds strong, keeping his hands firmly against your body.

Your back is stock straight, as he trails his hands down your hips. He dips a hand down to your cunny, forcing it between your thighs, and brushing against your sensitive core. Wakatoshi rubs your pussy in slow circles, effectively cleaning you, whilst also riling you up. You bite your lip, trying to stop any noise from escaping you. That’s when he began to clean your ass, making you jump in surprise, which causes more pressure to be laid upon your throbbing clit. A small moan escapes you, which makes the large man pause. He doesn’t say anything, finishing up your cleaning as fast as humanly possible.

You rinse your body off, face warm with mortification, but when you move to leave the shower, he stops you, “Ain’t ya gonna wash me?” His hands hold your hips, keeping you firmly in place. You want to tell him to fuck off, but since he hasn’t tried to butcher you yet, you nod yes. Wakatoshi turns you around, forcing you to face him. He looks a little confused, as he is able to see your face without the pink sparkles you had on earlier, “Ya look better without that makeup crap. I know Mama says it makes women feel pretty, but ya don’ need it,” At this point, you don’t know whether to be offended or not, but you just nod in understanding.

He stares at you a moment longer, before reaching down, and handing you his 2-in-1 shampoo. You clumsily grab the full bottle, flicking it open, and pouring a decent amount into the palm of your hand. It smells like a sixth grader hallway- just straight up axe. It’s almost so strong that you choke on your own spit. The large man removes the bottle from your grasp, allowing you to lather the thick soap in your hands. Once you deem it good enough, you reach for the large man’s head, but just barely skim the fringe of his hair. Pursing your lips in mild annoyance, you motion for him to lean down, “Please lower your head, I can’t reach you,” He immediately leans forward, as if to bow towards you, allowing you to scrub at his scalp with ease. Your pretty pink nails feel great against his scalp, causing him to lean onto you with a grunt. You try to love anywhere but him, as you continue to wash his hair, red and brown quickly going down the drain. Because of him leaning on you, you’ll probably have to rewash your body.

You lightly push him into the spot you were in previously, allowing him to be directly under the spray of water. He’s almost too tall for the shower head, the scene leaving you gawking slightly. Just how tall is this guy?

Once he deems his hair clear of soap, he steps back out of the spray, leans around you to grab the body wash, and all but forces it into your hands. The off-brand body wash is called ‘man musk,’ which makes you want to projectile vomit. Where the hell did they get this crap? Flicking open the bodywash, you’re met with another bout of axe smell, but this is somehow more potent. You give a small cough, as you pour a large amount into your hand, placing the bottle back on the other side of the tub.You lather up the soap once more, before beginning to awkwardly wash the large man. You start with his upper half, rubbing his arms, armpits, and bare chest. He has no chest hair at all, which makes cleaning the dirt off of him easier. When you get to his muscular abdomen, you become a bit anxious. You have no idea how to wash a man, and he’s looking at you as if you should know everything about him.

You decide to wash his legs before even attempting his no-no square, once again looking anywhere but him. When you finish that, you clear your throat, immediately getting the green haired man’s attention, “I-uhm, I don’t know how to clean the rest of you, so-” Wakatoshi grabs your hands, yanking you forward until you’re touching his heavy cock. He makes you grab onto him with a firm grip, pulling back his foreskin, before using your other hand to rub him. The hand that rubs him is then used to clean his heavy ball sack. Once he deems his cock clean, he uses the hand that once held his cock to clean his ass. The entire time, your body is stiff in mortification. This man just used your hands to clean his cock and ass. What the fuck?!

Once you have your hands back, you grab your body wash, dump a small amount in your hand, and begin to wash your hands and any body part that might have gotten dirty by washing his hair. He watches you with mild interest.

“We’ll wash me first, next time. I didn’t realise yer such a clean freak,” He didn’t sound judgemental, but he didn’t necessarily sound understanding either. You nod in response, as he shuts off the water, and hops out of the shower. He grabs his towel that was hanging on the wall, drying himself off, before typing the towel around his waist. His hair is still wet, but you assume that he’ll wipe it off later. The green haired man then grabs your towel, holding it open for you to step into. Moving out onto the bathmat, he immediately wraps you tightly in the soft towel. He holds you close to himself, seemingly trying to keep you warm.

You begin to rub the soft fabric against you, drying yourself off body part by body part, until all you needed to do was dry your hair. But, with the way the large man is just staring at you, you really don’t want to expose your nude body to him again, “Can I put on my clothes now?” He shakes his head no, before going to your luggage, scooping up the things Satori took out earlier, and chucking it back in. He closes it up, setting it down on the ground, and pulling up the handle. Rolling it towards the door, he pushes it open, beckoning you forward.

You follow after him, grasping your towel tightly to your chest. The large man leads you to, what you assume is, his room. Once inside, you’re both met with a surprise; Satori and their mother are in his room. The woman is ordering the red head around, changing the green haired man’s sheets, and cleaning out a few unused drawers.

“Ma, why does he get her? I’m older than ‘im, so shouldn’t eldest-”

“Shut your mouth, boy. This’ the exact reason you ain’t gettin’ her. Wakatoshi’s always obedient, always doin’ what he’s supposed to. That’s why he gets the pretty girl to himself.”

“Ain’t you say we’re supposed to share?”

“Yes I did, but you ain’t gettin’ her first, ya hear? Now go clean your room, boy, ain’t no girl wanna roll around in filth,” The red head turns around to go to his own room, only to catch sight of the two of you.

He glares at the large man, fists clenched at his sides, “Yer one lucky son-of-a-gun. Ma says you get her first,” He looks at your scared form, a wolfish grin suddenly appearing on his face, “But once I get my hands on her? We’re gonna have a fun time, right pretty girl?” You don’t say anything, too scared to say something wrong. He cackles at your lack of response, relishing in your discomfort, “No need to be scared, I ain’t gonna hurt ya…. Much.”

Their mother approaches the redhead from behind, grabbing him by the ear and shaking, “You ain’t gon’ do nothing but clean yer room, smartass,” She then turns towards Wakatoshi and you, an uncharacteristic smile on her normally frowning face, “Now you two go ahead. I know sex before marraige ain’t Godly, but there ain’t no priest around, and we’ve been needin’ more farmhands.”

You feel like throwing up- did this woman just tell her son that he’s ‘allowed’ to have his way with you? What mother does that?!

She drags Satori out, who’s damn near screaming in fury over the fact that the green haired man was given the go ahead to fuck you.

Ignoring them, he closes the door behind him, before rolling your luggage to the now clean dresser. He opens a drawer, pulls out a first aid kit, and motions for you to sit on the bed, “We never cleaned yer wounds.”

Deciding that infection is worth letting him touch you, you lay chest first onto the bed. The towel covers you enough that your pussy isn’t out in the open, but shows enough that the scrapes on the top of your thighs are easily visible. You hear him open the plastic container, pulling out alcohol wipes and bandaids. He tears open a wipe, placing a large hand on your thigh to keep you still, and begins to swipe it over your wounds. You let out a hiss of pain, but don’t move to stop him.

It hurts quite badly, but once he smacks on the last bandaid, you can’t really complain.

“Thank you,” You rasp out, moving off the bed to stand on your feet. Maybe if you ignore his mothers comments, nothing will come of it. Moving towards the end of the bed, you try to stand up, only for him to push you back down.

His large hands flip you over, forcing you to face him. He straddles your waist, his towel falling, causing his hard cock to weigh down against your own towel. You put your hands up, trying to push him away, only for him to grab your wrists and pin them beside you.

“What are you doing?” You sound scared, which causes the green haired man to frown.

“You heard Mama, she said it’s ok,” You shake your head no, trying to fight him. You thrash your body, trying to get him off of you, but to no avail, “Stop it, Yer gonna hurt yourself.”

“Please don’t do this! You already killed my friends, and I can’t-“ He used his elbow to keep one of your hands down, whilst he grabs your face with his now free hand. His grip on your jaw stops you from continuing with your pleas.

“They ain’t yer friends, they left ya fer dead,” He grunts out, “No friend makes ya go by yerself, now yer here with us, and I’m gonna treat ya right.”

He untucks your towel, pushing it open to allow him to see your body. His horse cock now rests heavily against your stomach, dripping precum against your soft skin. Using his knees, he’s able to spread your legs, allowing him easy access to your pretty cunny. Your legs now rest around his hips, as he handlessly tries to rub his cock head against your opening.

You whimper at the feeling, knowing that you’re not nearly wet enough for him to slide in comfortably. You once again try to struggle out of his hold, but it’s to no avail, “Wakatoshi, please- I’m not ready for you, it’s going to hurt really badly,” He tilts his head in confusion, not understanding what you mean, “Uhm, vaginas become wet when aroused, but because I’m, uhm, not, you’d hurt me by just going in.”

He eases up slightly, moving backwards a bit so he can see the entirety of your lower half. Releasing your hands and face, he grabs your thighs, dragging your hips up until they’re eye level. He leans in close, as if your coochie would speak to him, “How do ya make it wet?” You feel absolutely mortified, but it’s better than him just slamming into you.

“So, there’s something called a clit, if you rub it-“

“What it look like?” At this point, you’d rather die than continue, but it’s too late. You raise your hand, and point at your clit.

“This is what it looks like,” He nods, staring at your pussy like he was unlocking the knowledge of sex. He holds one of your legs on his bicep, allowing him to reach down and swipe his thumb against your bundle of nerves. Your entire body jumps at the feeling, spurring the green haired man on. The Rough pad of his thumb clumsily rubs against you in small circles, causing a sweet moan to escape your lips. Taking this with stride, he starts to add more pressure to his ministrations, taking note of the dribble of slick starting to drip out of you.

Your moans grow louder as you start to approach your orgasm, only to gasp when he swaps his thumb for his hot mouth. His lips latch onto your clit with such force, that you squirt all over his face. A small help leaves your mouth at the sheer amount of pleasure you’re feeling. Your head throws back, as he starts to tongue his way into your tight hole, slurping up your dripping juices like a man thirsty. He uses his two thumbs to hold your pussy open, as he continues to lick over your sopping cunny.

Following his movements, you start to grind against his face. The large man doesn’t stop you, your clit grazing against his nose, as he continues to make your cunny as sloppy as humanly possible. More loud moans escape your mouth, as you come to a second orgasm, once again exploding on the large man’s face and tongue.

You try to push him away, feeling overstimulated, but he ignores you, continuing to slurp up your yummy juices, “Wakatoshi, please! It’s too much-“ You grab him by his hair, effectively pulling him away, and making him growl like a damn animal.

“Ya taste good, don’ make me stop,” He kisses the arm that’s currently got his hair, trying in vain to convince you to let him continue.

“No, I’m too sensitive,” He grunts in response, shaking your hand out of his hair. Pulling you closer, he sets your hips back down, allowing his cock to rest against your soaked pussy.

“‘M gonna fuck a baby into ya,” Panic fills your chest, as you try to move away.

“No, no babies!” A grin finally makes its way onto his handsome face, as he pushes your legs over his shoulders.

“You’ll make a good Mommy, I just know ya will,” With that, he grabs his fat cock, and forces his cock into your pretty pussy. You let out a shrill scream, his horse cock practically tearing you apart. He’d pushed himself in in one swift motion, practically filling you to the brim.

He doesn’t let you rest for a moment, not understanding that you’re not ready for his harsh thrusts.

Bucking at full force, he starts to fuck you like a mad man. His balls slap your ass at top speed, causing wet sounding smacks to be heard all throughout the room. The Monster above you growls and grunts like an animal, his form covering yours. His hands hold down your arms, as he starts to suck and bite at your neck and chest. His hips, with every connection, rubs against your clit deliciously, turning his painful thrusts into an orgasmic fuck.

“Atta Girl, your pussy feels like Heaven,” He kisses you on the lips, muffling your cute moans. His hips buck into yours in fast paced thrusts, hitting your g-spot every time. That, coupled with his constant rubs against your clit, causes you to cum again, juices squirting out over the two of you. The feeling of you tightening up has him following in quick succession, his mouth leaving yours to let out a chest rattling groan, “Fuck, yer so pretty, I hope our babies look like their Mama.”

When he comes it feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s so thick and warm, that it feels like you just drank some hot tea, and you can’t help the small moan that escapes you at the feeling.

The large man stays inside of you, relishing the feeling of your wonderful cunny around him. He’s so glad you separated from your friends; if it weren’t for that, he wouldn’t have you in his muscular arms.

Whilst you’re catching your breath, you realise what he’d just done. He’d cum inside of you without a care in the world, but luckily, you just recently got an IUD implanted, meaning, there’s no way he or his crazy brother could baby trap you. With that thought in mind, you lay back bonelessly, allowing him to cuddle into your tits.

“I’m so happy Mama let us keep ya, I’ll make sure to treat ya right. Don’t worry about Satori, I’ll make sure he ain’t mess ya up or nothin’,” He grabs your hand, kissing the top of it like a gentleman, “You’ll probably cook and clean, the farm ain’t no place for a lady. Just put on some pretty outfits fer me and Satori, and we’ll be putty in yer hands.”

You nod in response, allowing your body to rest from the rough fucking the large man just gave you.

You still haven’t met their other brother, and you hope you never have to. Hopefully you’re able to stay away from the meat, maybe if you pretend you’re vegetarian they’ll leave you alone.

But, that’s a worry for a later time.

Right now, all you want to do is sleep.

[gokupowers]

thoughs on rosemary?

tbh I think the fandom mischaracterizes them because they're always depicted as the uHaul happy lesbians in domestic bliss which is cute but totally inaccurate to wlw relationships especially given one is an alcoholic emo and the other is a literal chainsaw wielding vampire w a savior complex that she was literally bred into, who both use femininity and passive aggression/words as tools and clothes as extensions of themslves like. we miss out on the capacity for toxic mean girl on mean girl action and yeah we get that w the scourge sisters whatever but the glamor and unreliable femininity of rosemary....SO slay. I wish people would explore the dynamic of them being competitive, of trying to one-up-each other in a dark, undeniably feminine way... I have a snippet from my super trashy euphoria style AU that covers it LOL:

"As she got older, Rose became fixated on certain things.

The ladies who would come over for her mother's wine club, all plunging necklines and painted lips and fluttering lashes.

Rose found herself observing the resonance of their voices, the curves of their hips, the articulation of their hands and manicured nails.

It's a discipline, one that Rose finds herself a student of.

She looks at it, feminity and womanhood, and studies it and it becomes her dogma.

She finds herself looking at other girls, the shape of their pink mouths as they form words and feels like predator watching prey.

She looks at her mother's grand mansion and coiffed hair and high heels and thinks; that's supposed to be me.

So Rose grows up with a sharp mind and a sharper tongue, all wrapped up in a pink bow.

When she's 13, she sees Kanaya Maryam in freshman honors English and she sees someone just like her.

That terrifies her.

So she taunts Kanaya, fluttering comments about Kanaya's money or her hair or her clothing.

Kanaya plays dirty. She exchanges pleasantries marked with barbs, comments about her Mother And Excessive Drinking, Perhaps.

When rose writes "POSER SLUT" on the mirror in lipstick while Kanaya uses the bathroom, she finds herself looking at the words "ALCOHOLIC SKANK" with a lipstick kiss mark next to it the next time she makes a trip to the lavatory.

Looking at it makes her a little weak in the knees.

And so, Kanaya and rose become friends in the way the most beautiful people and most intelligent people in the room naturally gravitate towards each other.

As antagonistic as their meetings began, it became... exhilarating. playful.

Rose felt she had an equal for the first time.

She had a feeling Kanaya did too

As they grow older, they blur the lines a little bit

At parties, make out with each other to fluster boys, because that's all covered by the tenet of "girls just want to have fun".

Kanaya stitches Rose a beautiful dress, purple silk that hugged her curves. As she helps Rose zip the back, Kanaya breathes over her exposed skin.

"All Dressed Up, Like My Own Little Doll...."

And Rose can't help but gasp.

So for Rose, "lesbian" isn't a word that crosses her mind once.

but "kanaya"? That is all she thinks about

By the time she's 15, Rose is a high functioning alcoholic, though it doesn't take much to hide it. Her mother never notices anything, after all.

The summer before senior year, Kanaya kisses vriska and they begin dating.

That summer, rose drinks enough to send her body into cardiac arrest

That summer is Rose's first time in rehab."

[mianavs]

Macabre

Dabi x f!reader, quirkless au

tw: dark content, smut, extremely dubcon/noncon, kidnapping, implied imprisonment

a/n: so i lied about only writing one Halloween themed piece. here’s a fic based on dabi brainrot

wc: 1.7k+

tg: @hqintheclub @planetonet @anime-central​ 

You came looking for a thrill. Excitement to stir up your monotonous life. You wanted to feel surges of adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream to remind you that you were alive and not just another corporate zombie. So, when your friends sent you the website link to an 18+ haunted corn maze, you skimmed through the consent waiver and didn't hesitate in signing it and buying your ticket.

But what awaited there was beyond anything you ever imagined.

It started out as a standard haunted experience with you and your friends making your way through the maze huddled together and shivering—whether it was from the cold or the fear you couldn’t tell—with only a couple of flashlights to guide you through the otherwise pitch black maze. There was standard creepy atmospheric music blasting through loudspeakers and disembodied screams from other participants within the towering corn stalk walls spread across 10 acres of land. The actors in the maze were also nothing special compared to the other haunted houses you’d been to.

In fact, the only truly scary aspect of the experience was the possibility of getting lost, something you’d been very much open to if it meant you would get the thrill of your life.

You and your friends had been in the maze for what seemed like hours, and your legs were starting to tire, exhaustion ebbing away at the excitement you’d felt in the beginning. Then, just when you were about to consider giving up, a crazed zombie-like man with a chainsaw appeared out of nowhere and chased after your group. It was then that your heart thundered furiously in your chest as you took off running, legs burning from the sudden strain. Everything felt so real as you bounded down the maze laughing nervously while your friends screamed in terror. 

You were so high on adrenaline that you failed to keep track of your friends that disappeared around a corner. The realization you’d been left behind dampened somewhat your excitement but it wasn’t until you plummeted to the ground that fear rose to the surface.

It was a harsh fall that cut your hands and bruised your knees. Besides the pulsating in your ear and the loud roar of the chainsaw, an ugly cackle straight out of a horror movie rang through the chaos. You scrambled to get on your hands and knees to reach for your flashlight before turning around to face the villain that’d managed to scare you.

He was tall with wild black hair that shot in all directions and chilling blue eyes that shined in the night. It was his makeup, however, that made him terrifying. He had, what appeared to be, marred maroon flesh under his eyes, over his ears, and from his mouth all the way down to his chest that was attached to his normal skin by staples. He was unlike any horror movie creature you’d ever seen yet seemed to have walked straight out of a child’s worst nightmare.

At that moment, you weren’t thinking about getting out of the maze or finding your friends. The only thing on your mind was pure unadulterated fear as a result of the person before you that seemed less like an actor and more like a crazed murderer.

You scrambled backwards in a weak attempt to get away but the man only laughed an ugly laugh before swinging his weapon at you and tossing it into one of the maze’s walls. It tore at the corn stalks and your blood went frigid at the realization that it was indeed a real chainsaw.

A scream tore through your throat as he took you by the hair and dragged you away through one of the maze’s walls. You closed your eyes as he dragged you through rough corn leaves that scratched your face as the two of you plowed through. You continued to scream and struggle against his unrelenting hold, but when you finally managed to claw at his hand, his other one landed a blow to the side of your face that painted your vision black.

A splash of cold water is what woke you up with a gasp. You found yourself in a small dirty cabin with your back against a wall and hands bound together and above your head by what appeared to be a rope hanging from the ceiling. Shivering from the chilly autumn air and frigid water that you’d been doused in, you scanned the poorly lit room for your abductor, knowing well enough that this wasn’t a part of the haunt

“Well? How about it?” A disembodied voice spoke. “Is this scary enough for you? Heard you bitching and moaning the entire time.”

The hideous man stepped into the sliver of moonlight and tears welled up in your eyes when you saw the glint of a blade in his hand.

“P-please, let me go.” You begged, tugging on your restraints. “I-I won’t tell anyone! I swear!”

“I know you won’t,” he drawled, stepping closer, “because you won’t be seeing anyone, ever.”

His threatening promise set off your fight or flight reflex that had you kicking and screaming like a captured animal. It wasn’t until you heard a swishing noise and felt the press of the cold blade against your neck that you stopped your struggle.

“You gonna start behaving like a good girl?” He added pressure to his blade until you felt a sting.

“Yes,” you stressed, trying not to move your neck too much. “I-I’ll be a g-good girl.”

His face drew closer and you could see the maniacal shine in his cool blue orbs, smell the tobacco on his clothes, and see that his makeup wasn’t makeup at all but his own skin, marred and held together by genuine staples.

“My good girl?” He asked, his voice a low rumble as his hot breath tickled your face.

“Wha–”

He silenced you with his lips and swallowed your unspoken words. Dropping his knife, he pushed you against the wall as his tongue assaulted your mouth, taking everything you had to offer. His kiss was harsh and violent but it sent twisted waves of desire down to your core. He had no right making you so aroused but your carnal instincts overpowered all logic and you found yourself moaning into his bruising kiss. Your lips moved in tandem with his and your tongue swiped over his disfigured lower lip, eliciting a groan from him, before sliding against his own.

He broke the kiss just when you started feeling lightheaded and black spots clouded your vision. A clear string of saliva stretched between the two of you as you caught your breaths. Between his heavy breathing, darkened piercing eyes, and macabre appearance, a familiar dull ache built up between your legs to your horror.

As if he'd read your mind, his hands went to work undoing the button and zipper of your pants before dragging them down over your hips, thighs, and finally over your kicking feet. The cold air against your bare legs sent shivers down your spine as he tossed your pants to the side and stood up.

“Stop! W-what are you doing?!”

His hand shot forward and cupped your clothed crotch, eliciting a strangled cry from you. He watched your reaction with lidded eyes and a smirk.

“I’m just giving you what you want, brave girl.”

Not trusting your voice, you bit your lip and shook your head as tears trailed down your face. At your stubbornness, he merely tutted before taking a step forward and latching his lips onto your neck while he rubbed circles over your clit with his thumb. As his teeth bit into your sensitive skin and his tongue soothed over the marks, he worked you up to an orgasm that erupted when he gave your throbbing clit a couple of harsh slaps.

You cried out as you came hard into your soaked panties while your captor merely whistled and greedily took in your teary and disheveled appearance.

“What a messy cunt you’ve got.” He laughed, the sound grating to your ears, as he rubbed a finger over your clothed slit. “Should we make it an even bigger mess?”

Without giving you a chance to protest, he pushed your panties to the side and delved three digits into your tight hot cunt. You let out a strangled cry and arched your back from the sudden intrusion. He was merciless in his assault and furiously pumped his fingers inside your sopping wet cunt. Unlike his previous ministrations, he didn’t let you cum on his fingers and pulled them out last minute, drawing a frustrated whine from your lips.

“W-why did y– AH!”

Before you could finish your question, He kicked your legs apart and guided his erect cock to your cunt. It prodded at your entrance once before he sheathed himself completely; a low groan escaping his mouth and a cry of pain leaving yours.

He didn’t give you any time to adjust to his size and merely wrapped his large hands around your legs before lifting you up against the wall. At your sudden suspended position, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso to ease the pain in your arms.

“Good girl,” he groaned into your ear. “See, you do want this.”

He proceeded to pull his cock out almost entirely before slamming it back in, your back hitting the wall with a loud thud. Indifferent to the stabbing pain in your back, he rammed into your cunt and settled into a fast rhythm that eventually blurred the line between pain and pleasure. Tears streamed down your face but moans left your lips with each harsh drag of his cock against your fleshy walls.

Overstimulated, you came even more violently than before, trembling as liquid gushed from your sex and coated your conjoined bodies. He came shortly afterward, shooting his release deep into your cunt before it trickled out and coated your inner thighs still wrapped around him.

Thoroughly fucked and exhausted, you let your body go limp in his grasp and let your head fall back against the wall. You couldn’t fight him anymore and wondered if this was your punishment for not appreciating your comfortable life. Once again, he seemed to have the ability to read your mind like a demon of some sort.

“This scary enough for you, brave girl?” His hoarse voice whispered into your ear. “How about I keep you with me and make you mine. Turn everyday into a living horror movie for ya.”